


The Tie

by deadcellredux



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Advent Challenge 2011, Crack, Gen, Office Hilarity, did i mention crack, fashion bitchyness, unfortunate holiday gifts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-03
Updated: 2011-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-26 19:34:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/287075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadcellredux/pseuds/deadcellredux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rufus gives Tseng a gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Madisuzy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madisuzy/gifts).



> Written for madisuzy's prompt "Rufus gives Tseng one of those ugly, too bright, christmas ties just for a tease, and Tseng actually wears it to work."

**1 – Reno**

It is nothing short of hideous.

Reno can’t stop staring at the gaudy print of Moogles and Chocobos frolicking in snow white and fluffy as vanilla ice cream, the almost-neon dots of red and green twining through the scene on what seems to be a crudely-stitched string of lights.

Tseng looks up at him from where he’s been making a neat notation on his desk calendar.

“Reno,” he says. “I asked you a question.”

“Huh?” Reno says, looking back up to Tseng’s face.

Tseng straightens. “Is there a problem?” he asks, folding his hands on the desk.

“Yeah,” Reno answers, and lets his eyes drift down again. “Your tie.”

Tseng furrows his brow. “What about it?”

“I… I just…” Reno’s mouth hangs open, speechless as he waves a hand around in a useless effort to help himself articulate his feelings.

“It was a gift from Rufus,” Tseng sighs. “So I figured I’d wear it. In the spirit of the holidays.”

Reno continues to struggle in his quest to find words.

 **2 – Reeve**

 _I can’t concentrate_ , he thinks. _What_ is _that_?

Reeve drums the ends of his pen absently against the pad of paper resting in his lap until Hojo turns to shoot him an agitated glare.

 _But the tie!_ Reeve wants to scream. He wants to get up on the table, shout it to the entire boardroom of disinterested executives fidgeting at paper cups of coffee and struggling to stay awake. _How can you not be distracted by that tie?_

He shakes his head and looks down at where he’s been taking notes on the morning meeting: budget figures, plans for new zoning, and oh-- doodles he drew during some pointless slideshow guided by a hapless administrative assistant entitled _Mako Energy and You: The Promising Future of The Promised Land_.

He looks at Tseng again, seated diagonally across from him, and realizes he _can’t_ look at Tseng. He just _can’t_.

 **3 – Rude**

…..

 **4 – Scarlet**

She’s stopped in her tracks in the 70th floor hallway, almost spills her coffee.

“Tseng,” she says.

“Good morning,” Tseng offers, nodding. She grabs his arm as he walks by, and he turns.

“Yes?”

Scarlet stares for a moment, then looks up at his face. “Nice tie,” she says with a catty grin, and continues on her way.

In her head, she thinks _the hell is that? And he usually looks so sexy, with those perfectly tailored suits._

She makes a notation in the To-Do list on her phone— _email Tseng with suggestions for a_ decent _personal shopper_.

 **5 – Rufus**

“It seems that AVALANCHE didn’t plan for long-term adverse contingencies following the bombing of the reactor,” Tseng says, offering Rufus a neatly organized report. “There are Mako leaks springing up all over Sector Five. Of course, you could say it’s Shinra’s fault for not taking proper precautions against eco-terrorism, however--”

Rufus takes the papers, a slight grin on his face as he interrupts.

“Looks good,” he says, breaking the tension.

Tseng eyes him suspiciously. “Hm?”

“The tie,” Rufus says, and breaks out into a barely controlled smile. “It looks good on you,” he says, and then breaks into laughter.

“ _Oh_ ,” Tseng says. He looks down at the tie, the mess of colors against the muted landscape of his pinstriped navy-blue suit. “I’ll have you know that everyone knows that this _hideous_ thing was a gift from _you_.”

“If it’s so hideous, then why are you wearing it?”

“I was trying to be _polite_ ,” Tseng says, his face feeling a little hot. He undoes the tie with his free hand and pulls it off, examines it closely once again.

“You _like_ it, don’t you?” Rufus says, louder and sounding excited as if he’s just discovered a secret.

“I do not like it. This is in terrible taste. _You_ have terrible taste.”

“I have _excellent_ taste,” Rufus sneers.

“You are _wearing white_ after Labor Day.”

“Pinstripes are last season.”

“Cufflinks were _never_ in season.”

“These are _antique_ ,” Rufus says through gritted teeth, fingering one of his silver accessories in question, “and thus, they make a _statement_.”

“Must be the same terrible statement that _this_ makes,” Tseng says, holding out the balled-up tie in his fist. Rufus crosses his arms and leans back, looking offended.

“Now are we discussing this issue or not?” Tseng asks, shaking the report in his free hand.

Rufus takes the report from Tseng and opens it, flipping through laminated pages but not actually looking at them, a furious expression on his face. He looks up at Tseng--Tseng’s arms are crossed as he stares coolly back at Rufus, the tie dangling, now, from his hand.

Tseng has no choice but to swallow his pride in lieu of his prior remarks, realizing that his only option now, asides from going back home, lies in Rufus’ office closet.

“Sir,” Tseng says flatly, dropping his eyes to the report in Rufus’ hands. He clears his throat, speaks quietly.

“May I borrow a tie?”


End file.
